Vivid Dreams
by Anrheithwyr
Summary: Merope buys a strange potion that is meant to allow her to dream whatever she wants; she uses it to get revenge on her family and also say hello to a special boy from the town.


_**Written for the 'HP Potions Competition' by Black Boxed for the category **__**Dreamless Sleep Potion**__** – Write about a dream. **_

_**Also written for the 'Out of Your Comfort Zone Competition' by Cheeky Slytherin Lass, using the character Merope Gaunt and the prompt dizziness. **_

_**Lastly, written for the 'If You Dare Challenge' by Slytherin Cat using prompt # 569, dreams of darkness. **_

….

Merope often dreamt of a better life, where she lived peacefully with her loving brother and father. She was talented beyond anything she could do in real life, and her father respected her for her talents. Tom loved _her_, instead of that prancing Muggle girl. In her dreams, she was respected and people listened to her, and they did _not _live in a hovel, the disgraced descendants of Salazar Slytherin. In her dreams, Merope was famous, and people asked her for all sorts of favours, as she sat on the throne of her ancestors, looking out on everyone who had ever wronged her.

In her dreams, Merope was in charge. But, she always awoke before anything truly happened, which always left her empty feeling. Merope, in search of some sort of escape, had spent what little money she had paying a witch to make her a dream potion that would allow her to control how she dreamed. She could control how things went, and she was _truly _in charge. It would last a full eight hours, the witch promised. Merope barely waited until she got home to swallow the entire thing, collapsing on her tiny little cot, fast asleep.

….

She knew she was asleep because, when she opened her eyes, the house was no longer dingy and dirty. Instead, the walls gleamed, the windows sparkled, and she was lying in a large, comfortable bed, far off from her little cot in the back room. Looking in the mirror, Merope felt a wave of dizziness. She was immeasurably beautiful, with long, curly dark hair and big blue eyes. Her hair was fluffy and looked well-taken care of. Looking down, she was also wearing a night gown nicer than anything else she'd ever owned in her entire life.

Merope smiled to herself and slipped from her room, down a very long hallway, all the way into a kitchen. Her father was sweating at the stove, cooking some sort of meat, while her brother was busy scrubbing the laundry. When she walked in, they both smiled at her, their eyes lighting up, and they rushed to Merope, both chattering over each other, trying to get her attention.

"Okay, okay," she laughed, waving them off. "It's nice to see you, too, Dad. And you, Morfin, look lovely today. Breakfast smells delicious," she inhaled the weird looking meat, and tried to avoid making a face as she nearly gagged. "Ah…what is it?"

"Just some cow that's been on the shelf from a few weeks back, dear," her father said, looking at her anxiously. "But don't worry, this isn't for _you_. The chef made you some _delicious _waffles, and we'll have this here meat. Won't we, Morfin?" Morfin nodded eagerly, and Merope smiled, sitting down at the head of the table. The chef handed her a plate of waffles, which she began eating, savouring their delicious taste. (In the real world, Merope had never had waffles, so she always assumed that waffles sort of tastes like a scone she'd once had, only better.)

When she was done, Morfin rushed over to fetch her plate. He cleaned up her spot at the table, and Merope smiled, hopping from her seat, and heading out to the window. Behind her, her father and Morfin were making suggestions on how she could punish them for being so cruel to her, but she only smiled calmly, saying such things could wait until later. She could feel the power surging through her, understanding the knowledge that she could do literally _whatever _she wanted; it was a wonderful feeling, but it was also a dark feeling.

"Perhaps for dinner, you two can be our show," She said, smiling cruelly. Morfin and Marvolo nodded, and remained standing in front of her, as if waiting for further instructions. She sighed, shooing them away. "Off, off. I don't need useless scum like you are around." She smirked, feeling the control the potion gave her, and she felt so _powerful. _If only this would last forever; if only this could become her life, so she could finally have a life worth living. So she could make everyone who had ever belittled or taunted her _pay _for what they'd done.

(Merope had never pretended like she wasn't a vindictive creature. She respected the subtle art of revenge, even if she never got the chance for any.)

"Hello, Merope," said a voice outside, and there was Tom Riddle, the son of a very wealthy man in town. Tom Riddle was tall, with dark hair and cool, dark blue eyes that always seemed to look straight through Merope as she watched him out the window. But, now, in her dream, he was looking directly at her and _seeing _her. He was smiling and talking to her, and his annoying lady friend was nowhere in sight. Merope had Tom all to herself, in a dream she controlled. Part of her was screaming that it wasn't quite as good as the real Tom, but Merope didn't care. She was in love-she'd take Tom anyway she could.

"Kiss me, please," she said suddenly, rushing towards him, and he moved towards her, his lips puckered as if prepared to comply, and they were nearly touching-

….

"Get up, little snakey!" Morfin yelled, cackling above her.

When she woke up, Merope sighed. The house was a mess, and she could hear her brother snickering as he ran away. She had been drenched in someone's dirty bath water, and her father was in the kitchen, demanding breakfast. The remnants of her dream still floated in Merope's head, and she smiled to herself, just a little. At least at night, she could have the life she wanted, when she had dreams of darkness against her foes and her horrid family, and a happier life for herself. At least she'd gotten to dream of Tom.

….

_**Sorry. This chapter really amused me as the illogical dreams of a teenaged Merope Gaunt; like, when she's 14 years old. **_


End file.
